Psyche logo

Depression: It's a Bitch

Just a Rant

By June OPublished 6 years ago 2 min read
Like

I hate having depression. It sucks. Plain and simple. There's nothing romantic about it; there's nothing beautiful to portray and remotely positive to romanticize and mull over. It's just a toxic cocktail of constant exhaustion, self-deprecation, doubt, and lack of drive. The lack of control over your own body, your own brain, it's enough to drive you mad. Without meaning to, you catch yourself staring into empty space. Your mind is constantly wandering to darker, more pressing matters and memories. A once happy thought has now progressed into something far more menacing, your brain having over analyzed and picked apart the entirety of it until you're left with nothing but the sad, anxiety-ridden aspects.

Why me?

It's a question that's constantly at the forefront of my mind: what would my life have been like if I didn't have depression? Would would my life had been like if I was just happy? Would I be more successful? Would I live with less regret? Would my grades be higher? Would I actually feel well rested for once? Would I be able to focus on the possible good outcomes for once rather than dwelling on all of the negative possibilities? Would I be able to have just a little bit of faith in myself just this once? Would my mind not constantly hunt for reasons to make me sad?

Would I not contemplate not existing for just one day?

Every obstacle that's thrown at me in life seems monumental. Small bumps in the road seem like sky scrapers, one negative comment leads to an onslaught of others that my own mind will badger me with for what seems like an eternity, and seemingly simple tasks are now far too large to mentally/physically handle without wanting to implode.

Still, I press onward. Every step feels sluggish, slow, as if my feet have been buried in molasses, but I continue. My joints ache far too often, and most days getting out of bed seems like an immeasurable task, but I try to tell myself that it's all in my head. I just need to keep myself busy, keep myself moving.

It's hard to when it feels like your brain is disintegrating though, your body decaying, and you've convinced yourself that you're entirely alone and people only see/speak to you because they feel bad. It's hard to tell yourself that it's just a chemical imbalance in your brain; this isn't actually the real you. But how saddening is it to know that you may never even see the real you, or reach your full potential because of your own fucking brain?

Depression is a fucking bitch.

depression
Like

About the Creator

June O

Just a college student struggling through the average, every day hardships of life.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.